You are warm, I am cold
by kitkat1003
Summary: Modern AU. Meta-Knight is a street kid with a reputation that makes people stay away. He lives alone and thinks he's going to live out his life as a worthless person. Then, he meets a boy named Kirby. T because some fight scenes, maybe swearing later.
1. When we met

Your name is Meta-Knight, age 15, and you are the most feared street kid in all of Dreamland. You hate the name of the country, hate it because it's a bald faced lie, one that's used to hide the poverty and pain you live in. You are cold, strategic, and deadly.

You are Meta-Knight, and you are the surrogate father of a five year-old child.

* * *

He only got a name out of the boy. Kirby. He had light pink hair, with a dark pink sweater that had a bright yellow star on it. He wore candy cane color shorts, red shoes and pink socks, and had bright blue eyes that always shined. Meta-Knight almost found it laughable at how the boy contrasted his dark colored look. He himself wore a dark purple jacket that was like a cape in the back, with a pair of black pants and a blue shirt. He had silver gloves on to match a small silver mask around his yellow eyes, a white belt that held his sword, and black hair that he put in a low ponytail. His dark brown skin contrasted Kirby's, who was pale white.

He had found the boy walking around, entire hand stuffed in his mouth as he waddled down the street. The boy had seen him and run over, stopping once he reached him. He had told the boy to leave, not needing anyone to annoy him, but the boy had followed him everywhere. Meta-Knight had once seen two thugs trailing behind Kirby, and had growled them off. As much as Kirby irked him, he didn't need to see another innocent face get hurt.

There was too much of that these days.

Once Meta-Knight had reached his home, a small hovel with cardboard walls holding up a metal roof, he told the boy to leave again, and to his surprise, the boy did, disappearing into the busy crowds in the street.

If Meta-Knight had felt a pang of sadness then, he would deny it every time.

That night, he hears a knocking on his makeshift door, and groans, getting up to see who the hell would be up this time of night. When he opens the door, he nearly gasps. Kirby is there, covered in bruises, tears at the corners of his eyes, but a wide smile on his face as he holds up a plate of steaming hot food. Meta-Knight feels his mouth water at the smell, and he invites the boy in. Kirby has actually brought two plates, one for himself, and Meta-Knight wants to tear into his own, but can't. He sees every bruise, every gash Kirby has, and feels sick to his stomach. The kid was only about six, maybe younger, and he didn't even know him, and he got this for him, even at the cost of his own health? Kirby had noticed this, gotten up, and walked over to him. He looked to the full plate in front of Meta-Knight, which had a complete turkey on it. Meta-Knight was still marveling over the amount he had, but pushed it towards the younger boy. He frowned, poking at Meta-Knight's skinny body, which if you had pulled up his shirt, could see his ribs clearly. He took a turkey leg, ripping it off easily, and shoved it into Meta-Knight's mouth. Meta-Knight blinked chewing absently at the food in his mouth, and Kirby smiled, walking back to his own plate and digging in.

Though he doesn't know it at the time, that's how their friendship begins.

* * *

The next day, he doesn't tell Kirby to go away when the kid follows him, doesn't get angry when he bounces around from storefront to storefront, dragging him along, because Meta-Knight can still see the bruises, the black eye Kirby tried to hide with his pink bangs. He simply deals with it, and he wouldn't admit it, but it was kind of fun to see new things. He was usually too busy planning his day to look at the stuff in the market, so this is really the first time he'd seen the things there. Kirby stopped at a fresh vegetable stand, looking at the tomatoes with wide eyes. He poked the vendor, holding twenty-five cents in his hands.

A quarter. All Kirby had was a quarter.

Meta-Knight felt his heart constrict painfully at the thought. The vendor took the money, watching as Kirby pointed to the biggest tomato there. Meta-Knight walked up, prepared to pay with the small amount of money he had, because life was cruel, no matter what, and a quarter couldn't be enough, when the man smiled, nodding and handing over the tomato. Kirby smiled, giving the man a hug before skipping off. Meta-Knight gave the man a small nod in thanks before following the boy. Kirby looked up at Meta-Knight once he reached him, and split his tomato in half, holding up one piece for him to eat. Meta-Knight hadn't even noticed his hunger until then, stomach growling, and he took the piece, eating it with gusto.

It's then that Meta-Knight starts believing in the kindness of strangers.

* * *

They continue walking on, Meta-Knight checking to make sure no one is causing trouble. That's what he did for a living. He was known as Meta-Knight for a reason, after all. The streets were cruel, and Meta-Knight would search for any foul play, stopping it in an instant.

Sometimes he got paid, sometimes he didn't. He didn't care either way.

He heard a woman scream, and in an instant he was running, forgetting his was in charge of a small child, eyes focusing on the man with a knife moving in closer and closer to a rich looking woman. He didn't even take out a weapon, simply slammed his fist into the man's cheek, feeling satisfied as teeth popped out. Kirby walked up to him, pulling his cape, and Meta-Knight turned around to face him, ruffling his pink hair softly.

"Oh my god, thank you so much!" The lady screamed, running up to him. He simply nodded his head in reply. He wasn't much of a talker anyway. The lady started rummaging through her purse, and Meta-Knight waited for her to get out a one-to-five dollar bill. He usually didn't get much, if anything, but it was better than nothing. "Is he yours?" She asked, looking to Kirby, who is nibbling on his cape, though he doesn't mind. Meta-Knight nods, putting his arm around Kirby's shoulders for confirmation. Maybe to keep him close, maybe because he felt a sort of possessiveness stir inside him. She looked between the two of them, nodding absently, before handing him one bill, he doesn't look down to see the amount, before walking away, waving to them. He looks at the money, and his eyes widen at the fact that is wasn't a one-dollar bill, or even a five-dollar bill, but a crisp _twenty-dollar bill. _He nearly gaped at it, looking down at Kirby, who has started chasing after a butterfly.

He has never been one to talk, but this is the first time he's ever been speechless.

* * *

He walks over to a few friends of his, Sword and Blade. They had been common thugs before he stopped them, and owed him much. He buys a small hammer from them, deciding that he should give to Kirby for self defence. The kid doesn't look like one with the patience for knives, and he doesn't want the boy to hurt himself by accident. Sword asks if he wants a name engraved on it for free, they always wanting to repay him, and Meta-Knight suddenly realises he hasn't asked for the boys name. He does ask, and the kid gives him his widest smile, replying in the sweetest voice Meta-Knight has ever heard.

"Kirby!"

It's then that Meta-Knight learns how to smile.


	2. You surprised me

Meta-Knight learns early that Kirby rarely speaks.

Sure, he didn't talk much either, but he knew how to make conversation. He didn't even _know_ if Kirby could say anything besides his own name. It doesn't bother him that much, but he hates noticing it whenever someone says hi to Kirby, how the boy would just smile and wave instead of replying. It stuck out in the back of his mind, though, he doubted Kirby had good enough parents to teach him how to talk if he was six years old and living on the streets.

And _now _that horrible pity was back, the sadness that ripped his heart to shreds at the fact at how kind and caring Kirby was, how he was cold and angry while Kirby was bright and warm, despite the fact that they were in the same situation.

"Kirby!" He called out, and those clear blue eyes made contact with his. That was another thing Meta-Knight notices; how Kirby always stares right into people's eyes.

_The eyes are the windows to your soul._

He shook off the unease of that thought. He had been watching Kirby and had noticed the boy getting too far away from him for his liking. Kirby walked over, his pink sweatshirt easily seen through the crowds of people, but was pushed to the ground with a yelp. Cold fury spread through Meta-Knight like ice, and the crowd scattered, leaving the few people who dared stay in plain sight. Kirby pushed himself up off the ground, blinking in confusion, but otherwise looking no worse for wear, and while Meta-Knight felt some sort of relief at that, the rage he felt was still freezing his eyes onto the culprit who had a deer in the headlights expression on his face. Since it was a crowded area, Meta-Knight could've believed that it was an accident, but the man's arms were frozen in a position that showed clearly that he had pushed Kirby to the ground on purpose. He glared, running up faster than intended, and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt "Excuse me, but can you explain to me what you just did?" He growled out, yellow eyes flashing dangerously beneath his mask. The man shook in fear, but choked out a response.

"I was just helping ya out, so ya don't have ta pretend ya like the kid!" At those words, Meta-Knight's vision narrowed.

"I don't _pretend _to like Kirby. He is a good _friend, _and I think he ought to get an apology from _you_," The words were full of venom, and Kirby got up, walking over and tugging at his cape. Meta-Knight gave him his most neutral face, and looked down as calmly as he could. "Hey Kirby, are you alright?" He said this because Kirby had just started healing from the wounds of before, the bruises just barely fading. Kirby smiles up at him, and _God, _Meta-Knight doesn't realize how wound up he was until he finally relaxed.

"Poyo!" Kirby shouts in reply, the second word Meta-Knight has ever hear him speak. Then, Kirby pulls at his jacket, on the sleeve of the hand holding the man up, and gives him some sort of glare. "Poyo!" He repeats, but the tone is much different, and it seems to convey a message only he can determine. He sets the man down, but lets him know one more thing.

"Tell everyone you know that if they _touch_ Kirby, I will not hesitate to kill them," He growls, low and cold, and the man runs of, shouting sorry behind him. Kirby nods approvingly, grabbing Meta-Knight's cape and pulling him along. "Where are we going?" He asks, though he knows that he probably won't get an answer.

He does.

"Poyo!" Kirby replies, and Meta-Knight figures that with Kirby, words were never needed anyway.

Besides, he figures the kid can pick up some phrases as he grows up.

* * *

One day, Kirby disappears, and Meta-Knight panics.

His mind is screaming at him, yelling that he's so _stupid, _that Kirby probably left him just like everyone else, like his parents or his old 'friends', but the other half was screaming that Kirby could be _hurt, _could be dying alone in a back alley, and he couldn't tell which predicament was worse. He runs, practically a blur in the crowd, and he looks everywhere, but Kirby is _gone_.

Suddenly he hears a cry.

"AIIII!" That's Kirby's voice, and it's a yelp of _pain, _and suddenly Meta-Knight can't think, just runs, jumping over rooftops and into the small building where the same men from the other day who had tripped Kirby were now kicking him around like a soccer ball. He jumps down to the ground with ease, and everyone steps back, eyes wide, and Meta-Knight feels his eyes flash brightly, but he doesn't care. He takes out his sword, the orange blade glows, shining, and the hilt is comfortable in his hand.

"None of you are leaving alive," He growls, and they pale. Kirby cries, and Meta-Knight turns back, seeing fat tears rolling down the young boys cheeks, mixing with the blood from cuts on Kirby's face.

_They did this to him!_

Everything blurs red.

When Meta-Knight's vision becomes clear, his sword feels heavy in his hands, and the men around him are dead.

Well, almost dead.

Kirby was walking to them and wrapping their wounds, the ones they inflicted on himself still bleeding, and he gave them each a kind smile as he helped them. When Meta-Knight took a step forward, Kirby's head whipped around, and cold blue eyes met yellow. Kirby's eyes dared Meta-Knight to walk closer, to try to attack again, and one hand gripped the hammer Meta-Knight had gotten him just days before. Meta-Knight took a step back, and Kirby turned back to his work.

Leave it to a kid to leave him utterly confused, angry,...

and maybe just a little bit scared.

* * *

Kirby knew Meta-Knight was a nice person.

The guy went out of his way to protect him, a small child that did nothing for him. Still, Kirby had to draw the line when Meta-Knight tried to kill people.

_Kill _people!

It was like watching a horror movie, played on repeat over and over, and Kirby finally pressed the stop button, and Meta-Knight's eyes unclouded, the red tinted irises now back to clear yellow. And then Kirby can relax, just for a moment, a breath he'd been holding finally let out, before every part of him tensed again. Meta-Knight took a step forward, and Kirby glared at him, eyes conveying a perfect message.

_Back off._

Kirby could forgive Meta-Knight. The guy was around 15, a kid, despite his adult-like attitude, and even if the guy tried to act all mature. What Meta-Knight didn't know was that he was falling.

At fifteen, he was falling, kicking and screaming all the way, and while it was somehow heroic, it was sad horribly depressing, because no one was there to catch him.

So Kirby resolved that he would.

* * *

The next day after the..._incident_ is a rough one.

Kirby pretends like it never happened, but Meta-Knight can see the quiet looks of apprehension when he gets close, the slight bit of distrust in Kirby's eyes.

It _hurts._

He doesn't know what to say, what to do, because he's never really hurt someone's feelings. Rather, he had many times before, but he had never cared.

He cares now.

He walks awkwardly through the streets, as though he's never been down them before, even though he knows the roads like the back of his hand. He thinks he hears a cry for help, but his mind is too numb to process it. Kirby pulls his sleeve, dragging him along, and Meta-Knight stumbles almost blindly. When they finally get to where Kirby wants them to be, it's a small empty alley, and Kirby takes them to the back of it. Meta-Knight feels his hands shake, finally looking down to see the blood on them, feels the same liquid on his face. He looks up for a second, and then he's falling towards the ground.

Kirby catches him.

He lays him against the wall, taking out a small rag and wiping the blood away, off of his face and hands and mask. Kirby takes off his purple hoodie and washes it, putting it up to dry. The rest of Meta-Knight's clothes were able to not get blood stained, and while Kirby is doing all of this, Meta-Knight realizes with a painful clench of his heart that this was probably where Kirby had lived before he had moved in with him.

When Kirby is finished, he picks up an old, weathered down book and gives it to Meta-Knight. He looks at Meta-Knight imploringly, before sitting down and laying against him, head resting on Meta-Knight's chest.

It's his way of saying that it's okay.

Meta-Knight looks down at the book, and with his homeschooled education, deciphers the text.

"_The Ugly Duckling," _He reads aloud, and Kirby claps his hands together in excitement, looking up at him with those too-big-to-be-real blue eyes. The eyes that show pure trust, love, care, and everything that Meta-Knight thought had been washed away. Kirby nuzzles into his chest some more, waiting for the book to be read, and Meta-Knight realizes how nice the alley is compared to his own home.

Kirby had brought him to a place to restart, he realizes. Far away from gangs, close to the market, a place so charmingly worn-down it felt like...like _home_.

He's never had a home before, besides the old little house he had made, but Kirby was giving him one.

He opens up the book, and smiles.


	3. And now I'm trying to save you

Meta-Knight packs up his small shack of a house easily, and Kirby watches with some sort of spark in his eyes, lighting them up, open yet mysteriously so. He only had three boxes of things, picking them up with ease. He was about to start walking to Kirby's-their-alleyway, when the boy on his mind pulled his sleeve. He sets down the boxes and squats down to Kirby's level.

"Yes?" Kirby does not reply, but picks up one of the boxes. When Meta-Knight tries to grab it, Kirby turns away stubbornly and waddles slowly in the direction of the alley.

He smiles, picks up the other two boxes, and follows close behind.

He doesn't need to look at the boy's face, but he knows Kirby is smiling too.

* * *

When they finally get to the alley, he picks out the pieces of metal he had collected over the years and made a makeshift roof stretching across the alleyway. It was as tall as him, maybe a bit more, and he made a wall in the middle with the rest of the metal plates, separating his and Kirby's respective rooms. Satisfied, he lays down on the ground with a sigh. When he turns to look at Kirby, he sees a wall.

_NoIcan'tseehimwhereisheIneedtoseehimnOW._

He tore down the wall with ease, and slumped over in relief at the sight of Kirby's familiar smile.

He decides to use the old wall for a front wall instead, and adds in a door. He lies down again, and feels Kirby lay down next to him.

_No._

He moves away, but Kirby moves with him, until his back is up against the wall, and Kirby's head is nuzzling his chest.

_Nooo..._

He frowns, but turns so he is comfortable.

He does not smile as he falls asleep.

Or so he tells himself.

* * *

Kirby is not there when he wakes up, and he scrambles to look around, sighing with exasperation when he saw Kirby waddling around, setting up a table with plates and silverware.

_Where the hell does he get these things?_

With a groan, he got up and walked toward the hyperactive child.

"What are you doing Kirby?" He asked, and he boy turned to smile at him, holding up a bowl filled with fruit.

_I swear he's stealing this stuff from someplace._

There's another bruise on Kirby's neck, a black ring that makes Meta-Knight think of big hands wrapping around the boy's neck and squeezing until the blue eyes close forever. He shivers at the thought. They sit on the ground, the table having no legs and the absence of chairs making it impossible to sit anywhere else, and Meta-Knight watches Kirby suspiciously as they eat.

The boy favors his left arm, and winces while eating.

"Kirby," He speaks up, because Kirby will never bring it up on his own, and Kirby looks up at him, cocking his head in confusion. "Where do you get all this?"

Kirby stiffened, but didn't say anything. Meta-Knight sighed. "I wish you would stop. I'd rather go hungry than see you every day with a new bruise or cut," He continues, and Kirby looks away guiltily. Smiling softly, he ruffles the boy's hair.

"Poyo!" Kirby cries indignantly, trying to fix his pink locks. Meta-Knight laughs.

Kirby looks over at Meta-Knight in surprise, and then smiles.

* * *

The next day, Meta-Knight wakes up to a summons.

One of DDD's minions are poking him with a stick, and he swats it away as he reads the message.

_Get your but over here or I'll smash you with my hammer! I have a job for you._

_-DDD_

Not very wordy, but it's DDD, and Meta-Knight doesn't believe the 17-year old has the brain capacity to write a paragraph. Still, he appreciates the effort, and runs out to see what job DDD has for him.

In his haste, he doesn't notice that Kirby is gone.

* * *

DDD tries much too hard to be intimidating.

His roughy brushed blue hair makes him look ridiculous, and his get up isn't any better. He wears a huge red robe and some sort of hat/crown, as if to make himself look kingly. He wears long dark blue pants, but, unfortunately, no shirt.

Thank god the man was somewhat toned, or Meta-Knight would have to vomit.

He sat on a makeshift throne, his huge, ornately decorated hammer resting beside it. Usually it had some blood on it, but Meta-Knight guessed it had been cleaned. He kneeled down like a knight.

"Hey, Meta-Knight, what took ya so long! Had ta wait about 5 minutes till ya got here!" DDD laughed, and Meta-Knight rolled his eyes underneath his mask. "Anyway, I gotta job for ya. It's pretty simple, so I won't pay ya too much. 'Bout a hundred bucks, hmm?" Meta-knight couldn't believe it. With that money, he could spare the cost of washing clothes, maybe getting Kirby some new ones, and he could buy plenty of food. He could even get some polish for his sword, or at least have it cleaned. He nodded at DDD to continue. "Well, ya see, there's this person who keeps coming into my kitchen and stealin' my food! I've caught 'em once er twice, but the stupid thing keeps getting away! So, I want ya to get rid of it," Meta-Knight tensed. "Oh I know, I know, you have this no kill/torturing rule, but all I want ya ta do is beat the kid up a bit, ya know, make sure he doesn't show his face here again," Meta-Knight somehow finds some sort of relief in that. And anyway, it's not like the kid hadn't done something wrong. The kid stole, so he was exacting justice, and that was fair.

_Even if DDD is the reason children live in poverty and **need** to steal, and DDD is the reason the city suffers._

He squashes down the voice of reason in his head and focuses on the task at hand.

The voice whispers in his head anyway.

_So this is a boy...someone new...who steals food…_

Meta-Knight tenses.

They bring the boy in, and his heart drops to the floor and shatters.

Because right there, in front of him, bruised and beaten and held back by DDD's minions, is Kirby.

The boy looks at him, and_ beams._


	4. But I don't think this is over

**Heyyyy~ Glad you people like this fic! Thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

Kirby's smiling at him.

_Smiling._

Like the boy believes that he can make everything okay, but Meta-Knight isn't sure himself.

DDD is looking at him expectantly, and so he takes out his sword Galaxia.

It still has some crimson marks on it, but he does not dwell on the past. The hilt is a familiar groove in his palm, and the orange blade shimmers dangerously. Kirby's eyes are trusting, and it hurts.

He runs towards the boy.

Kirby does not move. He does not tense, and there is no fear in the child's eyes.

Meta-Knight wonders what he ever did to deserve this trust, and vows to continue to earn it.

* * *

DDD is cackling madly from the sidelines, waiting, when Meta-Knight jumps over Kirby with practiced ease. He grabs Kirby, lifting the boy onto his back, and sprints towards the door. He's running so fast that the wind gets through his mask and into his eyes, causing them to tear up. His eyes are changing color, his clairvoyance going haywire, and in the moment of terror, the door he was aiming for is shut tight. DDD's minions are circling around them, and DDD himself glares at them with a fiery intensity.

They're surrounded.

Meta-Knight whispers some R rated commentary under his breath so Kirby doesn't hear.

DDD is growling, glaring at them like a child would right before they throw a temper tantrum, and the self-proclaimed king grabbed his huge hammer, twirling it menacingly.

"Now, ah don't know what you heard, but I remember sayin' very clearly to hurt the gremlin, not save him," The words are spat out, and Meta-Knight says nothing in reply. His grip on Galaxia tightens. DDD smiles, but it's cold. "Guess this means I don't have ta pay ya, hmm?" He says, and then there's a rush of people running towards Meta-Knight at varying speeds. Galaxia, dependable as always, guides his hands into blocking motions, and his legs jump and weave out of the crowd with muscle memory.

Unfortunately, this is the first time Kirby has been involved, so he doesn't notice when the boy falls off his back until he sees DDD lift his hammer.

Kirby stands there, staring at the looming weapon with curiosity, and Meta-Knight screams for the first time in years.

_"KIRBY!"_

The hammer is slammed down.

**CRACK.**

* * *

The hammer hits the floor without touching anything but air in between, and suddenly Kirby is behind DDD, the small hammer that Meta-Knight gave him what seemed like years ago clutched in his hand. The boy's eyes crystallize with an intensity that should be unfamiliar on a face so young, and Meta-Knight watches as the child simply hits the back of DDD's head with the handle of the hammer.

DDD falls.

The waddle-dees, children adopted and molded into mindless drones without any sort of individuality, walk to their 'king', and drag him off. Meta-Knight grabs Kirby once more, and they run out of the building at a speed even Meta-Knight finds tiring.

* * *

Meta-Knight is shaking when they get back to their alleyway home, and he sits Kirby down next to him.

"W...Where," He begins, panting. "Where did you learn to fight? To do first-aid?" He asks, and Kirby looks down at the floor, eyes distant and sad.

"Parents," He mutters. "Trained. Gone now," There are tears now, running down Kirby's face at a speed Meta-Knight doesn't like, and he feels awful, because he hurt the boy _again._

"Nightmare,"Kirby finishes. Meta-Knight's blood goes cold, and his eyes dance with visions of blood and death.

He always hated the word nightmare.

* * *

DDD wakes up with a screaming headache. After recollecting his thoughts he screams out of his room.

"ESCARGOON!" He shouts, and a man with purple hair runs in. He looks almost snailish in his ways, with long hairs coming out on either side of his face to create an almost brush like mustache.

"Y-yes, sire?" He asks nervously.

"Get me hooked up with the Nightmare Enterprise Gang! I gotta job for them!" DDD, and a monitor screen pops up. A well kept business man appears on screen.

"_How may I help you?_" The man asks, oozing with confidence. DDD's eyes narrow.

"How much for a mercenary?"

On the outskirts of Dreamland, an old man smiles, and laughs.

* * *

**Kirby Kirby Kirby that's the name you should know, Kirby Kirby Kirby he's the star of the show.**


	5. And my memories are playing on repeat

**Depictions of violence and death, so read at your own risk. Have fun with this chapter! It was fun to write~ :3c**

* * *

Meta-Knight's childhood is a blur.

No, that's not right.

His childhood is bloodstained snapshots. Empty alley ways, broken arms, bruised knuckles, dead bodies.

His childhood is a red orange sword that should only be orange, a puppeteer bent on a sick twisted question of what would happen if he killed the entire adult population of a town. His childhood is a friend, shot with so many unnatural growth hormones at such a young age, yet somehow having a child at 12, before being beaten into coercion with the enemy, and then slain by Galaxia. His childhood is creating a small army, full of _children, _of much too young people, too young to be fighting, and watching them all _die._

His childhood is a Nightmare.

* * *

Kirby's memories are a blur.

There are sweet words and kind touches, like the brushing of hair away from his face, and the small kisses on scrapes.

There are lessons, lessons on how to defend, how to attack, to heal, and those are ingrained in his mind.

Then, there are hushed, worried voices that escalate into screams, and pools of red.

He does not know how he got to where he is now.

He finds that he does not care.

_Maybe because he has a new family._

Besides, though Meta-Knight's hugs aren't as warm as the ones he remembers, he loves them all the same.

* * *

Meta-Knight knows he's not fine.

He _should_ be okay, _should_ be used to this, but he can't help imagining Kirby's crushed body, blood spilling on the floor and wide blue eyes drenched in fear and surprise. And Kirby lies so very still, when he pictures it, with not a single breath to be seen rise and fall from his chest. The picture in his head is so realistic it makes him want to vomit.

_Teenagers like him shouldn't know what a crushed body looks like, but he _**does.**

But Kirby, Kirby is _there, _and Kirby doesn't ask why he needs to carry him on his back so he can feel the vibrations of Kirby's breathing, and so he can feel Kirby's chin on his shoulder.

Kirby simply lets Meta-Knight make sure he's safe and enjoys the view of the market from a higher standpoint.

* * *

They are halfway through the market when a _monster _appears.

It was a boy with bright red skin, and sticks blazing with fire that he twirled around dangerously. There are multiple mechanical arms that connect to a brace on the boy's back, giving him the look of some sort of octopus, and they too are holding sticks of fire. He had a familiar symbol on his arm.

Meta-Knight's vision went black.

* * *

When he wakes up, per say, Galaxia is dripping with red liquid, and the child lay dead at his feet, and mixture of sliced skin and broken machinery. Kirby is staring at him with wide eyes, and people around him begin to whisper.

"It's happening again."

"Remember the Warp Star Gang?"

"The self proclaimed Star Warriors, you mean?"

"Such a young group of fighters, with Meta-something as their leader."

"He's going to get us all killed, just like those kids."

"Why is he even here?"

"Nightmare is coming back!"

He runs, runs past Kirby and the townspeople and the dead body and into the alleyway, where it is safe and where it is _home. _He's shaking, and Kirby's running in behind him, and he holds the boy close to his chest.

* * *

There are flickers of memories, of smiles with scruffy little kids coming and joining a gang named after the Stars of Hope, turning serious and searching for supplies and constantly asking"What do we do now, Mr. Meta-Knight?"

And then there are fights, righteous anger raging through them like a wildfire when they find out _why_ their parents are dead, and the retaliation is swift and furious. He learns battle strategies from books in the abandoned library, but even with all his planning and all his skills, children die and they scream and there's blood everywhere and he _can't-_

And the world shatters at _**his**_ face, staring at him with a wide, malicious grin, and "_**Isn't so delicious that everyone you knew died and you couldn't save them?**_"

And it was so easy to forget all of it, to push it far, far away so he wouldn't have to remember blank eyes and bloody faces, but then Kirby had to come and change everything and make him _remember._

And this town is a constant reminder of what he _couldn't_ do, what he _couldn't _save.

Maybe he couldn't save the town, or any of those so, _so young children, _but he can keep _Kirby _safe, can hold him and pretend the world isn't crumbling beneath his feet.

Kirby starts to snore.

It's enough to make Meta-Knight smile.


End file.
